


daylight is waiting

by unhappyrefrain



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Phone Calls & Telephones, Post-Canon, falling asleep on call, hes frantically signing the adoption papers as we speak, i invented a first-year oc for mika to adopt, timezones are hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 06:46:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14303133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unhappyrefrain/pseuds/unhappyrefrain
Summary: (just to live upon your face)post-canon. late night phone calls and timezones and failed meals. words said and (maybe) heard.





	daylight is waiting

**Author's Note:**

> "what happened to shumika lol"
> 
> oh don't worry, i've been shumika-ing, just not where you fuckers can see me. but if you call me, i will come.
> 
> i left the enstars fandom bc it was so fucking toxic and now i know i made the right choice. but don't fucking get me wrong. no matter how shitty the people around it are, shumika will always be my #1.

Timezones are _bad._

This Mika decides after Shu starts working into the evenings, and the only time he’s able to really _talk_ is past 8pm, which just so _happens_ to be 3am for Mika. Shu has told him multiple times that getting less than five hours of sleep every night is very bad for Mika’s health, and that his health should be a priority, but Mika had just complained and said something along the lines of “Oshi-san is more important,” and Shu had _tried_ to hang up on him, he really did, but before he knew it Mika had drawn him back into his ceaseless (lovely) chatter about the new first-years he’s taken in, and the clothes he’s been making, and Natsume’s many attempts to flirt with him that go right over his head, that he doesn't even know is flirting until Shu tells him so.

Shu isn’t really _surprised_ that it would end up like this. He expected his year off to be like having a foot in two different worlds; internships during the day, Mika’s soothing accent talking his ear off at night. The two things he loves more than anything— separate, but they blend into his life like they’ve never been apart. Usually Mika sends Line messages throughout the day, and Shu usually ducks away from whatever he’s immersed in to reply. Just things like _I miss you,_ and _wanna hear a bit from our new song,_ and _guess what I found at the dump._

Shu knows that a year ago, he would have acted indifferent, pretended to only half-listen, or told him he was being too loud— but he’s learned not to take this for granted. Every word from Mika’s mouth is some sort of blessing, a reminder throughout the day that he is loved. His phone will buzz, and buzz, either while he’s in the middle of recording or sewing or even sleeping, but Shu will always, always check his notifications, and if he can’t muster the energy for a reply, he will at least send a sticker.

(Mika once commented that he didn’t seem the type to use stickers, but then again, _Oshi-san likes to communicate in actions, don’t he?_ and while Shu denied stickers were actually actions, it made sense. Even when words failed him, he could remind Mika he was listening.)

But now, Shu is working evenings, because living in Paris is expensive and his daytime internship isn’t paying quite enough. He comes home exhausted, his voice worn out and scratchy from recording sessions and talking to customers (a horrible travesty) and yet he _still_ finds it in him to call Mika. He only really realizes it’s taking the same sort of toll on Mika when, during a call, Mika gives a large yawn.

Apparently they’re contagious even over the phone. Shu finds himself yawning as well, and his jaw cracks when he opens his mouth too wide. He imagines Mika yawning like a cat, showing his baby fangs.

“You’re tired, aren’t you? If it’s that bad, I’d rather you get some rest.”

“Nnah, ‘m fine,” Mika mumbles. “’S like, not even 3am over here, so—”

“Not even? Mika,” Shu scolds him. But really, he should be scolding himself, for not paying attention. He has been so careless lately— selfish. Wanting to be with Mika in any way he can, almost desperate for words, calls, a familiar voice. He should have realized earlier that timezones _exist,_ and are _bad_ , and that Mika should be sleeping. “You _need_ to go to bed. I will hang up on you if you don’t.”

“Oshi-saaaan,” Mika whines. “Don’t goooo, I have more stuffs to tell ya about, like, uh, today I saw some nice pretty silk at the fabric store ’n it was the color of yer hair, so I bought some, ’n I made a bowtie outta it! So it’s goin’ on one of the outfits, Akiya decided he was gonna go pink. He does some weird stuff sometimes, like ya don’t expect him to choose pink? I kinda thought he was the yellow type…”

Akiya is one of the three first years Mika has adopted this year for his new unit. From what Shu knows, he’s the energetic type, but has the tendency to say unsettling things. One time Mika had told him that Akiya, at practice, had looked up at the sky and said something along the lines of _you know god has a massive nervous system, it’s everywhere,_ and Shu had laid down that night quite interested and also quite afraid.

“No one knows what type he is. Does he keep switching? You really ought to color code them,” Shu sighs. “If Akiya goes pink, _keep_ him pink. Or just don’t let him be pink in the first place.”

“He wants to switch every _day_ ,” Mika complains. “I love the kid, but, he’s so bad at choosin’ stuff. Anyway, I took the kiddos out for ramen after practice ’n Kotaro ate so much he nearly puked. I keep thinkin’ maybe somethin’ is up, like he ain’t eatin’ enough? Maybe he was just hungry. And _then_ —”

“Mika,” Shu finally interrupts, “you need to _sleep._ ”

“But I don’t _wanna_.”

They go back and forth like this for a good few minutes, until Shu’s stomach audibly growls. He realizes he hasn’t eaten all day, and there _are_ enough ingredients and vegetables in the apartment pantry to throw together a quick pasta salad.

“All right, hold on a moment, I’m going to have to eat at some point and if I don’t get up now, I’ll never put anything in my stomach.” Shu rolls off the bed, bringing his phone along to the kitchenette, and Mika makes a little groan, but he doesn’t protest. He knows just how important it is for Shu to eat.

Shu sets the phone down on the kitchen counter, and opens the refrigerator, rummaging through the drawer where the vegetables are kept. He keeps talking as he goes, and halfway through a conversation about a particularly bothersome intern, Mika lets out another huge yawn, and five minutes later, is unresponsive.

“Mika? Are you all right?”

There’s no sound from the other line.

“Mika…? Ah,” Shu realizes. “Are you asleep?”

A tiny mumble over the phone.

“You’re asleep, aren’t you…” Shu sighs. Something about Mika falling asleep on call with him is… soothing. Like he’s right there, happily curled up next to him, the steady rise and fall of his chest the only constant in the rest of Shu’s busy world. “Well, it _is_ late after all.”

He suddenly doesn’t feel too up to making anything particularly fancy, even just pasta primavera (which, this late at night, basically just means pasta with assorted vegetables.) With the sound of Mika’s breathing over the line, like he fell asleep with his face right on his phone, Shu feels something drawing him back to the bed. He finds nothing in the pantry, but he does have leftover croissants in the cake holder, and he grabs one and wraps it in a napkin before retreating back to his room.

 

He makes sure he eats the croissant _over_ the trash can— good croissants are always flaky, and unfortunately those flakes get _everywhere_ , and they are also ridiculously greasy and can bring ruin to any good set of sheets. Mika is still sleeping. Shu is a little self-conscious about making chewing noises, so he’s glad for it.

Shu is hungrier than he thought, so the pastry disappears rapidly, and he settles back into bed, phone next to his face. He can hear Mika faintly snoring— he’s never liked when Mika snored, which was almost never, but it’s less like snoring now than little snuffly breaths. He realizes he’s never missed something like this before; the mundane things, the small things that used to either annoy him or make him act annoyed, are suddenly gifts to him.

“Tomorrow,” he says, quietly, “I’ll try to get home earlier.”

Mika makes a soft noise. Shu isn’t sure if he’s actually listening, or if he’s just responding to any sound.

“We can talk more then. So you don’t have to fall asleep on call. You’ll need your sleep for school tomorrow— you have practice, don’t you?”

He knows the answer to this. Mika learned well from him. He doesn’t like to push his kids too much, but they do have frequent practices; one in the morning and one after school, if they’re up to it. These late-night calls must have been taking a toll on him, Shu realizes, and that’s the last thing he wants for Mika.

“I love you,” Shu says. Quietly. Like he’s trying not to wake him. Like a butterfly is resting its wings on his fingertips, and a gust of breath could be enough to scare it away.

It’s still hard to say out loud. Maybe a little easier over text, just to type it out. Even now that he can call Mika by his first name, the words don’t always come right.

But while Mika sleeps, while he’s responsive but won’t remember— maybe it’s okay.


End file.
